"All shall bow before me! None may dispute my might!"

A deafening silence burned through the Hall of Kings as the nobles and slaves cowered together. Dread Emperor Phobos reached down slowly to lift the crown from the fallen king's brow, and raised it over his own head.

There was a knock at the door.

Phobos froze in place, crown mere inches from his hair. "Er... is anyone going to get that?" he bellowed.

There was no reply. The nobles all averted their gazes from him.

There was another knock at the door.

"Oh, fine." Grasping the crown in one hand, the Dread Emperor Phobos stalked across the Hall of Kings and wrenched the door open. Outside stood a diminutive man dressed in immaculately-tailored black velvet suit, hand raised to knock a third time.

"Oh thanks," the man said, stepping under the Dread Emperor's outstretched arm, into the hall. "It's awful weather out there, and you know how orcs get when they're out in the rain. Awful, simply awful." The small man registered the sight in the hall, and beamed. "Oh, is all this for me? Very kind of you, but you don't have to. I just want to sell clothes, really. But I suppose I'll rule you if I have to." He reached for the crown in Phobos' hand.

The Dread Emperor drew his hand back as if burned. "You do not rule here!" he declared. "I am the Dread Emperor Phobos! I have slain the king, and none may challenge my right to his domains!"

"Oh, really, that's a shame, actually," said the little man, "because I'm actually a Dark Lord myself, you know? I don't like to go on about it, I'm more interested in the clothes, but I do happen to be darklordaakmal - a little problem with the scribes way back when, you see - and I-"

"Cease your prattling!" the Dread Emperor Phobos boomed. "I shall crush you like a watermelon!"

"A watermelon? Really? That's what you're going with?" the diminutive Dark Lord shook his head sadly. "And I just had this suit made, too. Although... there is an alternative."

"I care not for alternatives!" Phobos proclaimed, then frowned. "Probably," he amended. "What is it?"

"Well, it's in the rules, you know? Two Dark Lords, or Dread Emperors as it may be, who both claim the same kingdom, can decide the matter in a duel."

"I... but... that's what I said."

"Yes, but no." Darklordaakmal glanced at the crown, then looked back at Phobos. "This isn't a duel of weapons or strength, but a duel of lust."

Phobos blinked once, then again, and then a third time before saying, "You mean... who can sleep with the most women, that sort of thing?"

"Ah. No." Darklordaakmal beamed up at the Dread Emperor. "Tell me - are you familiar with the term 'slash'?"